


Rewrite Everything

by wolfzaa



Series: Barlyle Prompts & Ficlets [6]
Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Phillip & Anne Brotp, Tumblr Prompt, and yes this is Rewrite the Stars Barlyle version
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 14:44:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13503717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfzaa/pseuds/wolfzaa
Summary: “What if we rewrite the stars?” she asked. “Who would you say to be the one he was meant to find?”P.T. shook his head slightly. “He would rewrite everything just to be with you.”“He’s my best friend, Barnum; my brother,” Anne said. “Remember that.  And remember who he has risked everything for -- who he will follow -- and who changed his whole life.Fix it.”(A Tumblr prompt: "Hey, hey, calm down.  They can’t hurt you anymore." + "I need you to stay here with me.")





	Rewrite Everything

**Author's Note:**

> **Reminder:** Every Barlyle fic I write will be a canon divergence where Charity has already passed away because I love her too much to let P.T. cheat on her.
> 
> From [this prompts list](http://wholegrainrolls.tumblr.com/post/169596549973/100-prompts).
> 
>  **Prompt:** 6\. Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore. + 29. I need you to stay here with me.
> 
> Btw, Thai version [หาอ่านได้ทางนี้เลยค่ะ](https://writer.dek-d.com/wolf-zaa/writer/viewlongc.php?id=1197067&chapter=104)

 

Phillip was in the hospital for days, weeks even, after the fire.

Anne was there almost every day, along with P.T. and the Barnum girls.  Anne, because it was her Phillip tried to save that night. Phineas, because it was him who carried Phillip out of the fire.  The weight of guilt was still heavy on her shoulders while the weight of Phillip’s limp body had never left his arms.  Anne slept there some nights.  P.T. took turn some days.  They couldn’t leave the man alone; they couldn’t bring themselves to.

“Thank you,” Anne whispered one afternoon, “For everything.”

“Thank _you_ ,” P.T. replied absentmindedly, “For being here.”

Anne glanced at him, curious. “Why?”

“He passed out trying to find you,” was P.T.’s answer. “Better let him wake up seeing you than anyone else.”

Anne stared at him.  P.T. sighed and eventually teared his eyes away from Phillip to look back at her.  Something was stirring behind her irises, soft and warm; fondness and amusement, maybe, P.T. wasn’t sure what he was looking for.

Then she smiled for the first time in many days. “You guys are dense.”

“Pardon me?”

“You weren’t here for far too long, Barnum,” she continued. “I suppose you have no idea what happened during your absence.”

P.T. frowned.

“Enlighten me,” he said.

Anne let out a soft chuckle. “What if we rewrite the stars?” she asked. “Who would you say to be the one he was meant to find?”

P.T. shook his head slightly. “He would rewrite everything just to be with you.”

“He’s my best friend, Barnum; my _brother_ ,” Anne said. “Remember that.  And remember who he has risked everything for – who he will follow – and who changed his whole life.” She rose up from the bedside chair and looked at him in the eye. “There were protesters and there were nightmares, Barnum.   _We_ witnessed them all but no one was in the position to make it right but you.” She patted him on the cheek, added, “ _Fix it._ ”

P.T. didn’t say anything after that.  Anne didn’t need him to.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Phillip finally woke up, he found Anne first.  When he fell asleep again that night, he wasn’t aware of P.T.’s presence sitting beside him.  When he regained his consciousness in the morning, Anne was already there to take care of him, while the other man was nowhere to be found.

Things went that way for several days.  Sometimes, P.T. wondered what happened while he was away trying to recover the circus from ashes and make it all up to the crew.  He wanted to know how Phillip was; how he felt, what he thought, what they discussed, everything he missed.

He wanted to see the glint in those baby blues again; the fire, the passion, the innocence.  He missed them all, especially when the last things he saw were disappointment and fear and something close to accusation.

P.T. wondered what he would see when he had a chance to look into Phillip’s eyes again.

For now, he just looked calm and almost untouchable; wounded, yes, all bruised and burned, but still perfect and very much _alive_.  P.T. couldn’t ask for more.

Not until the younger man started groaning.

“Phillip?”

It was already passed midnight and the ward was dim; the only candle lit was on the bedside table two beds away.  P.T. moved his chair closer to the bed and bent down to put his hand on Phillip’s cheek, feeling a cold sweat against his palm.  Phillip was mumbling something unintelligible under his ragged breath, trashing his head from side to side with eyes shut tight.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” P.T. murmured, leaning in to press his lips over the knitted eyebrows. “They can’t hurt you anymore.  No one will hurt you. Shh… It’s alright.  It’s gonna be alright…”

Phillip gasped.

When P.T. backed away, he could see those striking blues blinking at him through the dark.  Now he saw them, confusion mixed with surprise, and—

_Relief._

P.T. honestly didn’t expect that.

“Phineas?” Phillip mumbled hoarsely.  “P— P.T.?”

P.T. didn’t deserve any of this yet he couldn’t care less. “Yeah, it’s me.  Are you alright?”

“Why are you here?” Phillip asked with a half-skeptical look. “Where’s— Where’s Anne?”

“She’s home with W.D.  It’s almost one in the morning, Phillip.  She needs rest as much as you do.”

Perhaps it was the soothing tone he used, or maybe Phillip was just too tired to keep himself alert; Phillip relaxed and sank his head back into the pillow.

“Thanks,” Phillip mumbled.  P.T. frowned.

“What for?”

“For staying.”

Phillip was holding his wrist so tight it could hurt, keeping P.T’s hand against his cheek.  P.T. let him.

“No.  Thank _you_ ,” the older man corrected, “For never leaving.”

Phillip smiled weakly. “I saw the protestors coming at us,” he whispered. “Anne was dying in the fire, and you didn’t care.”

P.T. forced himself not to place another kiss on Phillip’s forehead.  Instead, he offered, “I’m sorry.”

Phillip hummed. “It’s fine.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“Then rewrite it,” the former playwright replied. “Rewrite everything.  You took me to this side and I—” Phillip closed his eyes as he added softly, barely audibly, “I need you to stay here with me.  I need you to—”

P.T. shushed him with a kiss on his forehead.

“—Rewrite the stars.”

He finished the sentence for him, lips caressing the skin beneath at every word, and Phillip could only laugh— genuinely, beautifully.  There was nothing P.T. could do in his power to stop himself from kissing the man again.

Phillip let him.

P.T. couldn’t ask for more.

 


End file.
